


The Limelight

by justapunkrockho



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4678727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justapunkrockho/pseuds/justapunkrockho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I had a random idea for a one shot that evolved into this "love at first sight" style word vomit, but I hope you like it. This was my first shot at fanfiction, so I make no promises that it will be any good.<br/>((AU Rock Star!Cosima and Geek!Delphine))</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Limelight

**Author's Note:**

> All of the knowledge (including language translations) came from the internet, and I can't guarantee their validity. Any feedback or corrections you have are much appreciated. Thanks!

The lights dim to black as the low bass slowly fades into nothing, the roaring crowd quickly taking its place. A flurry of dreadlocks and bangles later and Cosima Niehaus has left the stage, another successful show under her prestigious belt. Her disingenuous grin graciously accepts the fleeting congratulations thrust in her direction as two bodyguards, both triple her size, usher her towards a dressing room.  


Making her way through winding backstage corridors, she finally reaches the door with NIEHAUS scrawled in thick letters across the tattered white paint. Turning around to face the two massive brick walls in her company, her smile turns briefly authentic.  
“Thanks guys. I’ll be fine for the night. See you tomorrow.”  


Holding out her fist, Cosima sees the usually stone-faced protectors share wide smirks of their own before quickly fist-bumping and heading back down the hall towards the security exit. Letting out a breath she wasn’t aware that she had been holding, the singer makes her way through the door and onto the awaiting sofa tucked away in the corner of the room.  


She should be happy.  


The show sailed smoothly, as always. The feverish fans were thrilled to have Niehaus back in her home city for one of the last shows of the tour. She owned her stage like those were the last notes she would ever sing.  
But something feels missing.  


It wasn’t always this way. At one point in her career, she enjoyed every second of the celebrity lifestyle—the partying, the all night extravaganzas, the one night stands—but now, exhaustion has replaced the constant high. Somewhere along the way, she lost the spark that ignited her yearning to perform. She lost the love that she had for entertaining her foster sisters with impromptu performances late at night as a child. She lost the passion that she found all those years ago with just a sleek, Gibson ES-335 and a burning desire to fill entire stadiums with her music.  


Maybe it has something to do with that huge, black hole of a love life.  


Living like a rock star is great for hook-ups in clubs with groupies who want nothing more than to be dragged back to a five-star hotel room for the night, but that life does fuck all for a serious relationship.  


"They all leave in the end, don’t they?” she laughs breathlessly in the empty air. Part of her still hopes for a response that will never come, a sign to tell her she isn’t wrong for wanting more than nameless faces and lost memories.  


She wants to think that she’s still the same Cosima who would get high with the science geeks on Friday nights and kick ass in Runewars, but she knows that would be a lie. This life changes even the strongest individuals, and there’s nothing anyone can do to prevent the inevitable shift.  


In an attempt to brush off the existential conflict warring in her brain, the young singer sheds her stage outfit for a more casual look. With the biting San Francisco wind just outside the door, wearing her thick flannel and beanie won’t stand out from the fans currently leaving the arena, still riding the concert high.  


It’s robotic the way her fingers move to smoothly roll up the joint that’s been calling her name since she rehearsed just after lunch. She tucks the fresh blunt behind her ear and sticks her phone in her back pocket, just in case her manager has a stroke at the discovery of the missing asset.  


Usually, the cold would cause her to shiver and pull quickly at the lining of her jacket, but after a nearly two hour set under burning spotlights, she welcomes the winter air. Cupping her hand around the small flame of the lighter, the joint quickly lights and, with one inhale, the smoke settles pleasantly in her lungs.  


Leaning back against the wall outside the arena, Cosima tilts her head to the sky and exhales in bliss. The stars are not as prominent as they would be if she was gazing from her own backyard, far away from the light pollution of the city, but the moment still transports her back to her childhood. She remembers sitting with her siblings, forcing them to lie on the grass and look at the night sky. Even with their harrowing early years, they formed an unbreakable bond, one that she wishes she could rely on this very moment.  


But Alison moved to Canada to uncover her childhood roots, Jennifer ran off to Colorado Springs to pursue her Olympic training, and Tony left for a cross-country road trip on a mission of self-discovery, leaving Cosima alone in California, partying in billion dollar mansions and drinking herself to death in porcelain bath tubs.  


Sometimes she thinks that this life wasn’t worth the heartache and the loneliness, the hours of fake smiles and laughs.  


Hiding in the shadows, she watches as thousands of adoring fans exit through the doors with beaming smiles.  


But then again, maybe this life is exactly where she should be. This is, afterall, why she started performing in the first place.  


I just want to make people smile, she thinks to herself.  


Cosima Niehaus, the girl with the golden vocals, they said, but if she has no one to share the success with, is it really worth it?  


She shakes her head and stuffs her nearly frozen fingers into her pockets. Just imagining her Canadian-turned-American-turned-Canadian sister’s reaction to her reckless behavior brings a smug smile to her lips.  


“Oh, Cosima! You have a show tomorrow and you’re out here doing drugs and freezing to death!”  


Alison might not approve of this comportment, but damn if the THC doesn’t soothe her overactive brain like a hot cup of coffee on a cold morning.  


Just as the effects of the weed are starting to take effect, the singer closes her eyes, taking in the sounds of fans chattering gleefully about their night of bliss, but one sound that she picks up contrasts starkly with the content voices around her.  
“S'il vous plaît, Josh. Leave me alone. I’m going home!”  


The voice is beautiful—and French, if she’s not mistaken. The syllables bounce harshly off her tongue, and a male voice isn’t far behind.  


“C’mon, baby! Don’t be like this. Let me take you home.”  


This voice is distinctly American—and drunk. Cosima opens her eyes in search of this exchange, not that it’s any of her business, but she feels obligated to make sure the owner of the beautiful accent isn’t in danger of the man's inebriated senses.  


“Josh, I’m not going to ask again. Leave me alone.”  


“Baby, you know you want-”  


“Non! Just let me go.”  


Cosima unconsciously thanks her sober brain for changing into more comfortable shoes as she runs towards the noise. Senses now on full alert after hearing the alarm in the woman’s voice, the singer turns the corner and stumbles upon a mess of blonde curls being held against the wall of the building, clearly against her will, fear building in her eyes.  


“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”  


Her voice cuts through the near silence like a knife, forcing both pairs of nameless eyes to shoot in her direction, one a look of shock and desperation, the other a look of inebriated annoyance.  


“None of your business, bitch,” is the American’s instant reply.  


Her knuckles clench in a moment of unexpected rage. “If you’re doing anything against this woman’s will, then yes, it is my business. Let her go.”  


Hazel eyes silently beg for help as the man refuses to remove his hands from her wrists. “I think you should give us some privacy before I make you regret stepping in my way.”  


Cosima sighs and lets out a dry chuckle. “Fine. Let’s have it. Woman to man. C’mon, dude. Give me your best shot.”  


He looks the girl up and down, clearly finding my small stature humorous. “I don’t want you to get hurt, little lady. Now get lost.”  


“Oh, so you don’t want to hurt me, but you’ll hurt her? How about you grow some balls and fight me? I’m a busy woman and I don’t have all night.”  


One insult to his frail ego is all it takes for his grip on the French girl’s wrists to loosen. “Fine, but you asked for it.”  


“I’ll warn you,” the singer spits, “My bite is way worse than my bark.”  


He stumbles forward and lunges for her face. Just as the brunette hauls back to land a punch—most likely in vain seeing as the monstrosity before her is almost twice her size—a metal pipe whirls against the side of his head causing a sickening crack to resonate throughout the deserted street. In a matter of seconds, the man is unconscious on the floor, and in his place is the French angel holding a thick metal pole in her hands, a terrified look gracing her beautiful visage.  


“Holy shit, are you okay?”  


Her huge eyes dart from the heap on the ground to the shocked singer’s face. “Oui, thank you for… that.”  


She attempts to smile in the face of her adversity, but her shaking hands say otherwise. “Dude, you’re totally shaking right now. Can I at least get you something hot to drink inside?”  


A look of gratitude washes away the fear that was present moments before. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”  


“Oh, no! Impossible! I mean, I could use the company and you look like you could use a coffee, and I think Josh here can find his way home when he wakes up with a massive headache.”  


The blonde laughs nervously. “Well, merci. Thank you again.”  


“It’s my pleasure…”  


Cosima pauses hoping that she’ll finish her question.  


“Delphine, enchanté.”  


An angelic name for an angelic woman, she ponders briefly before regaining her train of thought and grabbing the outstretched palm in a warm handshake. A genuine smile stretches from ear to ear, regardless of the fear that she resembles a complete idiot as the unfamiliar words stumble off her tongue. “Uhh, enchanté! I’m Cosima, but you probably already knew that.”  


Yes, thank you, Cosima,” she smiles bashfully. “I’m so sorry for… him. You did not have to involve yourself.”  


Immediately shaking her head, Cosima laughs quietly from a mixture of adrenaline and the lasting effects of her earlier recreational activity. “Dude, I wasn’t going to let that moron hurt you. I was just getting some fresh air outside, you know, a long show can really, like, take it out of me, so I was just lucky that I heard you.”  


The singer’s hands dance through the cold air as they begin their journey back towards the arena, and Delphine’s eyes light up with mirth. “I do not mean to come across as a… crazy fan? I believe that would be the American slang,” she mutters, much to Cosima’s amusement, as the women draw closer to the building’s entrance, “but speaking of the show, your performance tonight was simply incredible. You have an amazing stage presence. I was captivated by every song.”  


Cosima hears endless compliments after every show, but none of them have ever made her feel this appreciated. Something about the indubitable tone of the woman’s voice tugs right at the singer’s heartstrings, sending a flood of emotions to her head. “That’s… I mean, thank you. That means a lot. I do it for the fans, you know?”  


Delphine smiles wholeheartedly at the small confession as a blast of warm air hits the women upon stepping into the building.  


“I really appreciate your offer, but you didn’t have to do this for me.”  


“Have to? No, but like I said, these after show parties get kind of lonely when it’s a party of one—well, two if you count the booze.”  


“Don’t your band members join? Your manager?”  


“Sometimes, but Sarah is with her daughter tonight and Felix is busy with his new boy toy, and Rachel—my manager—she’s definitely not the “party” type, if you know what I mean.”  


A sad smile graces Delphine’s visage, and it requires every ounce of Cosima’s willpower to not stare at the perfectly shaped lips. “I always assumed that the celebrity life would be more… exciting.”  


They arrive in front of the dressing room and Cosima laughs loud enough for the echo to reverberate off the concrete walls, but it’s not sincere, it’s a defeated laugh. “My life was a giant party for a while, but you reach a point where it just gets frustrating, not exciting. Like, I’d rather spend the night reading a good book than out at some bullshit function designed to up my publicity.”  


Delphine nods along, hoping that her understanding is visible in her eyes. Her maman had always told her that she spoke with her eyes, always wearing her emotions on her sleeve, even as a young girl.  


“I would never be able to handle the pressure that you face every day. I am happy to stay in my lab all day,” the Parisian twirls her fingers awkwardly.  


Cosima picks up on the nervous energy vibrating off of the blonde as they enter the room. “Lab? You’re a scientist?”  


With a quirky, almost self-conscious smile, Delphine nods her assent.  


“Dude, that’s so cool! I wanted to study Biology in college, but I dropped out and went for the guitar instead.”  


A light ignites behind the hazel eyes that have been so nervously awaiting Cosima’s reaction. “I did not expect a singer like yourself to be interested in the sciences.”  


“Well, if we’re being honest, there was this crazy hot chick in my 9th grade intro to Biology class, so I doubt it would have grabbed my attention otherwise,” she chuckles anxiously, carefully gaging her new acquaintance’s reaction to the subtle sexuality bomb that she just dropped, “but then the year went on and I realized I actually found the whole subject totally awesome.”  


Sensing no bad vibes from the blonde—only a ridiculously cute smile—she continues with her questioning. “So, when you say scientist…”  


“Oh, I study host-parasite relationships. I recently was granted a research position so I was able to end my rotation in the Medical Center at UCSF.”  


“Wait, you’re a medical doctor and a research type doctor? You have your doctorate already?” Another sheepish smile and head nod makes Cosima’s jaw drop to the floor. “That’s, like, hella impressive, man. Wow. You’re so young!”  


Delphine’s contagious laugh cuts through the empty air. “What is this word? Hella?”  


“Oh, it means, like, really or a lot. Sorry, weird California jargon, it’s sort of second nature.”  


“Non, it’s interesting. The way you talk is very… captivating. I like it.”  


A simple compliment shouldn’t leave her blushing like a school girl gushing over her first crush, but Cosima’s cheeks color regardless. “I mean, your accent is basically the best thing I’ve heard all week, so I guess we’re even.”  


The blonde’s nose scrunches up in mild disgust. “I am not fond of my accent.”  


“How is that possible? Your accent is equally captivating, like, muy cautivadora… uhh, sehr fesselnd.”  


Although she’s sure that she just completely embarrassed herself, seeing Delphine throw her head back with laughter expels any self-consciousness. “Did you just say ‘very captivating’ in Spanish and German?”  


“Hopefully, but I’m not even close to fluent so if I just said, like, an insult or something, let me know.”  


“Non, it was good, although I do not know very much Spanish, I learned German in school.”  


“Damn, is there anything you can’t do?”  


Delphine blushes again, her hands momentarily seeking refuge in her gorgeous mane of golden locks. “I am a terrible driver.”  


“Me too, man. Welcome to the club.”  


Cosima’s heart jumps as those long fingers rake through blonde waves again, but this time in slight frustration. “I have failed my exam three times. Three times!”  


“Ha! I got you beat. I failed four times.”  


Amused grins overtake both women, the comfortable silence filled only by their laughs. Maybe it’s the lingering effects of the marijuana, or maybe it’s simply her spontaneous attitude, but something pushes Cosima to ask the question.  


“Are you busy tonight? I mean, would you want to go somewhere with me? Unless you have work tomorrow and need sleep, or you just want to go home, because I totally understand that, but if you’re free—”  


“I would love to.”  


“Woah, really?”  


“Oui, I am free.”  


“Are you sure? Because I don’t want to, like, pressure you any—”  


Reaching out to stroke her hand, Delphine cuts off her rambling with a small smile. “I have no plans, and I am very much enjoying our time together.”  


Cosima beams at the confession, immediately jumping up and grabbing her leather jacket from the couch. “Okay, just let me know if I’m boring you.”  


“Cosima, how anyone could spend time with you and feel bored… it seems unimaginable.”  


In an attempt to mask her embarrassment, the singer smirks and retorts with her own remark. “Well, look at Dr. Delphine…”  


“Cormier,” the blonde smiles.  


Cosima bites her lip to conceal the grin desperate to break free. “Look at Dr. Cormier being all smooth. I’m sure you say that to all the ladies.”  


As they walk through the door, braving the burst of cold wind, Delphine reaches down and finds solace in Cosima’s hand. “Non, it’s just you.”  


Another blush slowly covers Cosima’s cheeks, but she imagines that the biting air is a good excuse for the redness.  


They walk in pleasant silence, the streets practically deserted now that the traffic from the concert has dissipated. It isn’t until Delphine decides to lightly interrogate the singer on their destination that the quiet is broken.  
“So, could I have a clue as to where we are going?”  


“And ruin the surprise? Never!”  


The blonde huffs, “Well, that’s why it’s a clue, not an answer to where we are going.”  


“Hmm… alright, Miss Impatient, we’re going somewhere I used to take my foster siblings.”  


“Foster siblings? You were adopted?”  


Unintentionally, Cosima lets out a small laugh through her smirk, causing Delphine to worry. “Désolé, did I offend you? I did not mean—”  


“No, no! You’re fine, Delphine. It’s just nice to meet someone who doesn’t already know every detail of my private life, you know? It’s very refreshing.”  


Delphine smiles sympathetically, “It must be very difficult for your life to be so public.”  


“It can be. Sometimes I just want to be able to go to a café without being hounded by paparazzi or swarmed for an autograph.”  


“Mmm… I can’t imagine.”  


They turn a corner, and a vast, grassy field comes into view. Cosima visibly brightens upon the childhood memory.  


“This is so beautiful, Cosima.”  


“Mm, it is, isn’t it? I haven’t been here in so long. It kind of sucks going here alone.”  


“I’m sure having your family around helps when you feel overwhelmed.”  


“Well,” the singer scratches her neck anxiously, “we’re not as close as we were, and I’m busy so often that it’s not easy to just visit whenever. It gets lonely sometimes.”  


Cosima looks up at the sky, but her thoughts are interrupted by a warm hand joining her own. “You have me now.”  


Those words are like 20,000 volts straight to the heart. “Yeah?”  


Two hazel eyes gazing earnestly into her own is enough to send Cosima’s head spinning.  


“C’mon, there’s almost no one here, follow me.”  


They jog over to the middle of the park and fall down in the dewy grass, completely enraptured by the bliss of the moment’s freedom. Giggles and heavy breathing is all that can be heard amidst the night’s silence, but Cosima still tries to still her erratic heart for fear that Delphine will hear its beating affection.  


“This is incredible. The stars are just… merveilleux, magnifique.”  


“God, everything sounds so much more beautiful in French.”  


“Non, English is very beautiful as well.”  


“Au contraire,” Cosima drawls, making Delphine scrunch her nose playfully, “they’re called the romance languages for a reason.”  


With no acquiescing in sight, Cosima’s tongue quickly throws in one more line before her brain has time to realize the implications of her words. “Or maybe it’s just beautiful when you say it.”  


The lack of response from Delphine leads Cosima to believe that her comment wasn’t well received, but before she can begin a hasty, excuse riddled apology, a warm hand moves to cup her cheek. Even though it’s only her face that Delphine’s tentative touch reaches, the California native feels her entire body heat up instantly, all senses on full alert.  


“I should not be so surprised that a magnificent songwriter such as yourself has such a way with words.”  


“Oh, yeah? You should see me when I’m not, like, stoned off my face. I’m much more eloquent.”  


Cosima barely registers the slight hum of agreement from the blonde, instead choosing to focus on the intense fire behind those hazel eyes. It’s the very fire that sets her insides ablaze, a delicious burn that destroys every rational thought in her head.  


Delphine bites down nervously on her bottom lip before throwing caution to the wind. Leaning down quickly as to expel any chances for cowardice, the French woman initiates the intimate moment that has been building from the moment their eyes locked. Both women melt into the kiss, their surroundings slowly fading into oblivion as warm lips desperately seek the comfort they so desire. The concept of time becomes so pointless when caught in a moment of lust; Seconds turn to minutes with no fear of consequence as hands begin their journey across pale skin.  


The fireworks that Cosima remembers watching over the bay as a child are nothing compared to the fireworks she feels through this kiss. All of the stars that she once revered now seem meaningless with such perfection in her grasp. It almost feels too wonderful to be true. Their lips create a melody more beautiful than any that Cosima could strum on her guitar.  


With reluctance, a natural end to the passionate entanglement separates the women, their hands still firmly grasping at winter coats, almost as if one fears the other will disappear into thin air.  


“Woah.”  


“Oui, I believe ‘woah’ is right.”  


“You,” Cosima falters, unable to find words to adequately express the feelings leaping out of her chest. “You are amazing and beautiful and goddess-like… ethereal, even.”  


Delphine blushes and ducks her head towards Cosima’s neck, her lips brushing against the strumming pulse point. “I think that is the nicest complement I have received.”  


“There’s more where that came from.”  


“Is that a promise?”  


“Oh, hell yeah.”  


They lay still against the damp ground as large puffs of hot breath contrast with the cold air, their chests still heaving to recover from the kiss. Delphine brings the singer’s frozen fingers to her lips, kissing each one with the same tender attention. “You have another show tomorrow, non? You should not be out here in the cold.”  


“You sound like my sister.”  


“Your sister must be very smart.”  


Cosima smirks at her comment, “Oh, Alison would love to hear that.”  


“I bet your family gatherings are rather hectic with so many of you.”  


“Next time we have one I’ll let you know, although I don’t think you’d enjoy that craziness.”  


Those huge doe eyes fill with shock and adoration, a look Cosima has never before seen directed at herself. “You would really want me to meet your family? We’re practically strangers.”  


Composing her thoughts, the brunette bites her lip expels the breath in her lungs with a sigh. “I had this sort of ex-girlfriend named Shay, she was pretty much bat-shit crazy—totally into holistic healing and spiritual stuff that made no sense to me—but she did get me interested in the idea of past lives and, like, our souls remembering other souls from those past lives.”  


Delphine concentrates intensely on comprehending the rapid English, her head bobbing slightly in understanding.  


“So would it be totally, completely insane for me to feel like our souls met in another life? I mean, it’s not something anyone knows, and it might just be the pot talking but it’s this weird feeling that makes me think that we’ve met before. As soon as I saw you tonight, something clicked.”  


Cosima looks over expecting a blank stare, but instead is greeted with a warm grin. “Although my brain wants to believe that you are, in fact, bat-shit crazy, my heart wants to believe that you are right.”  


“So… you’re still down for meeting the Niehaus clan even though I just went on a crazy rant about soulmates and past lives?”  


Delphine smiles widely before answering. “That depends… Do you think they would like me?”  


“Well, yeah! I mean, I think Jennifer gets along with everyone, but Alison is a little, uhh, off putting, to say the least. Oh, and Tony would definitely try to put the moves on you. He’s such a ladies man.”  


“I am flattered, but I do believe that I only have eyes for one Niehaus sibling.”  


Although they’ve made their feelings quite clear, Cosima simpers while teasing Delphine. “Really? Is it Jennifer? Damn, I always knew that bitch was better with the ladies.”  


One eye roll from the French woman is the only response that Cosima receives before those perfect lips press another kiss against her own.  


“I believe the one I am referring to goes by Cosima.”  


“Wow, she sounds like quite the catch; In fact, I think I might know her! How about you give me your number and I’ll pass it along.”  


Falling back against the grass, Delphine lets out an unexpected, undignified snort. “That was horrible.”  


“Really?” Cosima joins in the laughter. “I thought it was pretty good.”  


“Hmm… I suppose I could still give you my number, even if your pick-up lines could use some work.”  


Giddily, the singer takes out her phone and hands it to the eager blonde. “See, you say that they don’t work, but I now have your number in my phone.”  


“You are too cheeky for your own good, I hope you know that.”  


“I may have been told once or twice.”  


“Just twice? I find that hard to believe.”  


“I suppose I’ve charmed my way out of a few encounters. I guess I’m just totally irresistible.”  


“C’est vrai.”  


Still struggling to express her sheer happiness in the moment, Cosima nervously brushes her fingers against Delphine’s open palm. “So… are you doing anything tomorrow?”  


“Non, I don’t go back to work until Monday.”  


“Does that mean I could possibly take you on a date tomorrow?”  


“And your show would not interfere with this hypothetical date?”  


“Not if this date involves brunch and a trip to my favorite museum? Unless that sounds way too nerdy then maybe something else…”  


Delphine pulls the singer to her feet, suddenly becoming aware of their stark height difference. “Well, as I do recall, I am a nerd, so a museum visit sounds like a, uhh, hella perfect date.”  


“Hella!? You did not just say ‘hella’ in a sentence. Oh, shit, I’m totally corrupting your English.”  


Warm fingers brush against Cosima’s red cheeks, a thumb reaching down to gently touch her lips. “Maybe I like being corrupted.”  


Those words cause the brunette’s heart to stop entirely. “Well, in that case, I think I could corrupt you even further in my apartment.”  


Immediately, the scientist’s look of adoration turns to one of lust and desire. Again, her lips ache for one more taste of the spectacled woman under her fingertips. “Emmène moi chez toi.”  


“What?”  


“Take me home.”  
\-------  


They stumble through the apartment in a fit of giggles, cold hands groping at any visible inch of warm skin as clothes fall to the floor in a trail leading straight to the bedroom. In the dark of the humble abode, Cosima blindly searches for the door handle, but Delphine decides that waiting isn’t an option. She slides her hands around to the underside of the smaller woman’s thigh to lift her up and push her tightly against the wall. Cosima’s legs instinctually wrap around the blonde’s waist, grinding desperately in search of friction.  


“Bed…”  


“Non, right here.”  


“Oh, God—”  


Delphine cuts off her moan with a searing kiss, one that leaves them both winded and aching for more contact. Untangling her hands from the waves of golden hair, Cosima reaches around and unhooks the lacy blue bra constraining Delphine’s breasts, letting it fall to the ground with the rest of their clothes.  


“Fuck, Delphine, you feel so good.”  


A groan leaves the French woman’s lips along with a slur of foreign expletives. Cosima grins at the completely animalistic sound as long, slender fingers slip into the boy shorts sitting low on her hips.  


It’s not long before Cosima’s nails are unforgivingly digging into the pale skin of her lover’s back, her thighs shaking with every thrust. Strong, unrelenting hips pin her to the wall, and it feels as though her lungs are going to collapse.  


“Holy shit, Delphine.”  


Those long fingers curl just right and cause her to unravel, her breathy moans echoing in the hall, but it’s like music to Delphine’s ears. She holds the shaking brunette in her arms before slowly pulling out her fingers and bringing them to her lips, savoring the taste of her new love for the first time.  


“Wow, I was not expecting that.”  


Delphine smirks at the admission. “You have much to learn about me, ma chérie.”  


“We can worry about that tomorrow because right now I just want my head between your thighs.”  


The stark confession makes the blonde blush, even after their recent intimate encounter, but her excitement overrides any doubts that rise in her mind.  


“Prenez-moi au lit.”  


“Okay, I know that one,” Cosima winks before quickly pulling her lover through the bedroom door.  


They fall onto the spacious bed, lips immediately reattaching to flushed skin. Cosima feels the strong thighs reciprocate her earlier motion by wrapping tightly around her torso. In all of her experience with late nights and beautiful women, none have come close to making her feel so completely enraptured.  


Her world comes to a grinding halt as the angelic beauty in her arms shakes under her delicate fingers. This all-encompassing feeling is something new entirely, and no word in her vocabulary can explain the extent of her passion. Maybe a feeling this earth-shattering deserves more than a simple word. Sometimes the best things in life can't be explained.  


As the woman beneath her cries out with a final series of breathy moans and desperate pleas, Cosima smiles against the curve of the heaving chest where her ear rests just above an endless staccato rhythm.  


In an attempt to be discrete, Delphine brings her hand up to her eyes where small tears are gathering and falling gently, but Cosima sees past this movement.  


“Hey, are you okay?”  


She laughs at the absurdity of her small lover’s question, even though her heart clenches wonderfully at the sincerity of the words.  


“Yes, I’m sorry.”  


“You don’t need to be sorry,” Cosima brushes away the offending hands and replaces them with her own, catching a few stray tears before they can continue their path down rosy cheeks. “You want to talk?”  


“You probably aren’t used to girls crying in bed with you; I feel ridiculous.”  


“Well, I’m not used to being in bed with beautiful women I really care about, yet here we are.” Delphine blushes and drops her head. “No, look at me, Delphine.”  


The blonde pulls the blanket up to her chest, suddenly feeling completely vulnerable in the presence of those ever affectionate brown eyes.  


“You are so beautiful. Like, insanely, can’t-believe-you’re-not-an-angel beautiful.”  


“Cosima—”  


“No, just listen. You showed up in my life out of nowhere a few hours ago and now I feel like no amount of time I spend with you will be enough. I want you to talk to me about your host-parasite relationships and your terrible driving skills and your years in school where you somehow became a brilliant trilingual scientist. I want you, Delphine.”  


More tears escape, and her logical brain forces the words through her mouth. “This is crazy.”  


Cosima laughs, her hands reaching down to grip the bare shoulders resting against the headboard in front of her. “I know, and that’s what I love! You… You make me feel so alive. Do you know how long it’s been since I felt this happy? I feel like I could conquer the world with you right now.”  


“Really?”  


“Yes, really. Almost every night I’m surrounded by people who love me, but they’ve never made me feel like this.”  


Delphine finally smiles widely, her heart overriding her confused neurons. “You make me very happy as well.”  


Wiping away several tears of her own, Cosima wastes no time in kissing away the salty remnants of Delphine’s conflicted emotions. “I guess we’re a perfect match then, huh?”  


“I suppose so,” Delphine agrees, the happiness in her eyes giving away far more than her words.  


“Does that mean you’re down for cuddling right now? Because I’m sort of freezing my ass off over here.”  


Grabbing the comforter with one hand and Cosima’s hip with the other, Delphine pulls them together under the thick sheets. “I’ll have to warm you up then.”  


“Ooh, Dr. Cormier, are you suggesting you cure my shivers with sex?”  


“Well, as a medical professional,” she slides her hand down Cosima’s curves, “I would say that sex is the perfect treatment plan with a number of additional health benefits like increased antibody levels and lower blood pressure.”  


“You did not just dork out on me while my hands are on your ass.”  


Delphine bites back her laughter as Cosima fills the empty air with her infectious giggles. “You’re so cute.”  


“You are so wonderful.”  


Despite her aura of confidence, Cosima ducks her head down against Delphine’s neck to hide the blush creeping towards her cheeks.  


“I’m very lucky to have found you tonight, for more reasons than one.”  


More tender kisses follow, and it’s enough to soothe the small brunette into a state of near unconsciousness. The sweet French words whispered against her hair melt like winter snowflakes on her skin. It’s an end to her night that she never expected, but with ears still ringing from melodies she has heard a hundred times and cheeks still wet from reluctant tears, she falls asleep with a smile.  


Strong arms hold her in place and wrap tightly around her healing heart, slowly mending the pieces left shattered.  


Maybe this is the sign she was looking for.


End file.
